Rain: Part One - God's Tears

{a poem taken from this image}

God's Tears

A knife in my heart, I already know 

before he speaks, what it will show.

I tell myself no, it's only a dream

It's not true! I want to scream.

Then the words come, I cannot hide;

I can only cringe and bleed inside. 

"I'm sorry, Miss April," he looks so sad, 

"I've done all I know; all I could have."

I shake my head. All isn't enough.

He was mine, don't they understand? 

He can't be dead. Shouldn't be gone.

That sort of thing happens in a stranger's home. 

Left alone, I turn away. 

The window beckons, dark and grey. 

I reach for the sill and try not to look;

the weather reads my heart like a book.

Rain hits the pane and slides away;

I reach out and trace their ways,

groping hard to understand,

Why is it me God reprimands?

The drops fall harder, tumbling down;

they splash on the sill, I wonder how and then I know. 

It's mine.

Another falls, I brush it off,

but what's the use?

They flood my eyes;

I struggle to see, to realize.

Jesus wept, I've read it before;

but then, I never placed much store

in two words that seemed

so detached from me.

I guess now I ought to see

 that He feels the pain that empties me.

When I am weak, when I am dry,

and I don't understand the reasons why,

He is with me - not apart;

His tears fall now to reveal His heart.

Jesus knew pain; He wasn't immune;

if He grieves, why shouldn't I?

My baby is held in the palm of His hand,

and with the other He holds mine.

The rain, His tears, flow by my hand,

His great sorrow lessens mine.

I spread my fingers and press the glass;

I don't wait longer for the feeling to pass.

I weep with God and feel inside,

the start of the healing His tears provide.

© JamieChanning 2012